


I didn't invite you here to plunder the dead, Jack

by ceria



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Background Relationships, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28945827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceria/pseuds/ceria
Summary: Written as comment porn in May 2008
Relationships: Jack Sparrow/Will Turner
Kudos: 2





	I didn't invite you here to plunder the dead, Jack

The dead might not need comfortable sleeping quarters, but Jack Sparrow wasn't dead - any longer. "How do you sleep, William?"

Said Captain was leaning against the hull of his ship, sea creatures of more sorts than Jack could identify nuzzling the back of his shirt, as if vying for Turner's attention. Something Jack held and refused to release.

Will's warm smile was enough to force Jack to find a distraction. The back of his breeches were damp, below the curve of his bum; enough excuse to yank his gaze away from Will. Something that felt like wet line after a storm pressed against his leg. He turned to look, the moldy hammock making him wrinkle his nose. The boy had to rest some time, didn't he? He couldn't be on duty every moment of every day.

"I'm dead, Jack. Besides, my job is never ending. You could say I have years to catch up with."

"Then why did you stop for the _Pearl_?" He'd already died once, right? So William wouldn't be tryin' to collect old Jack for another trip to the Locker.

Would he?

Obviously his expression mirrored his fear, for Will grinned at him.

"I'm not on duty, Jack. I just… wanted to see you."

"Why not 'Lizabeth?" He asked, hands waving distractedly as he began to pace, searching the room with the skill of… well, a pirate. "I'd offer to help with the takin', if you like," Jack said, thinking about all the trinkets that a dead man – or woman – might carry to the Locker. Things Jack could convince a soul they didn't need. Items he could barter and sell – even if he promised to carry them back to the land of the living. It wasn't like his word meant anything honorable, after all.

"I didn't invite you here to plunder the dead, Jack."

He didn't even sound like young Turner any longer, even the timbre of his voice reminded Jack more of a captain than blacksmith – a man sure of his place in the world.

"Being Davy Jones this past year has changed you," Jack said, still trying to figure out the reason Will wanted to see him.

"So how's it changed Elizabeth?" Will asked as Jack picked up something shiny he thought might be gold, only to watch it crumble between his fingers.

"Lizbeth?"

"Yes, Jack. Elizabeth. Your king. How is she?"

"I left 'er with the Empress long 'bout a year ago," he said, narrowing his eyes at Will's implications. "I've not seen 'er since."

He sauntered – when did Will learn to do that? – closer. "So you haven't exchanged any more kisses with my wife then?"

"I ne'er kissed her!" Jack said, even his voice sounded false to himself.

"She only kissed you then?"

Jack nodded, that was the truth of it. How close could two men stand? He wondered idly as Will touched the baubles in his hair, making them chime; the music sweeter than the locket he once heard Davy Jones play.

If Jack had been carrying rum, he'd had excuse to pull away, to put distance between them. Or possibly not as Will began to tug on the trinkets, the sharp pain making Jack wince and tilt his head.

With every intention to ask what Will meant to do, instead Jack remained silent as yet another Turner kissed him, pressing his body forward, making Jack move backwards.

This time, this time, Jack kept his hands free, waving through the air. No more Turner shackles for him.

"Your wife," Jack reminded them, priding himself on trying to make some effort, no matter how little it was, to distract Will from the kiss. And when did Will learn that? While Jack was in the locker? Who taught him to caress lips so gently with teeth? To tug on the skin until Jack's lips parted, to tease with tongue against the roof of mouth. Who showed Will how to tantalize with tongue gliding across tongue, sliding in and out in such a fashion as to insinuate…

Jack stepped back, somehow ending up in the same spot as before. Apparently the Captain's quarters were not waterproof when the ship submerged, he could feel the cling of damp lines against his back, curving around his skin as Will pressed forward, trapping Jack between hammock and body.

"Your wife," he whispered one more time.

"No where does it say I need to be faithful; only that she does," Will said, smugness evident in his voice.

"It's implied," Jack said, his hands now touching Will, mimicking him. One Captain undressing another.

"Guidelines," Will said before another kiss. They were mostly naked, however that had happened. Strange that Jack didn't keep track of those things when he wasn't paying for the bed.

"Besides, I can't leave the Dutch and she won't come aboard. She doesn't like the… environment." Will waved his hand and Jack glanced up, gasping, trying to catch his breath as he watched the snails crawl in and out of the bones embedded into the hull. He could have heard the shells clicking against each other, but Will distracted him with kisses to the hollow of his throat.

"Bugger me," Jack said, his voice catching and tearing as Will sucked on his collarbone.

"That's the idea, mate."

And Jack remembered no more that night. Which might be safer in the end - should he come across his king anytime soon.


End file.
